


Inklings of Truth

by lucathia



Series: Truth, 10 Years Later [1]
Category: Bakuman
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, word count: 1000-5000 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-09
Updated: 2009-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucathia/pseuds/lucathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bakuman, 10 years later. A look at one of Mashiro's possible futures. Does not take into account anything after chapter 24.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inklings of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 31_days_exchnge on livejournal for theme 02 from kb9vcn: even before we somewhat rashly started, we had inklings of the truth.
> 
> Spoilers up to chapter 24 of Bakuman. This does not take into account any canon that's revealed after chapter 24 since those chapters hadn't been released yet when I wrote this.

She moved about in the kitchen, her long dress swishing around her legs. Mashiro could hear the steady stream of coffee from the coffee maker and her quiet hum as she added cream the way she liked it. He could picture her small, content smile as she sipped daintily from her coffee cup, her eyes lighting up from pleasure. Azuki knew exactly how to be feminine with her grace, how to be cute without coming across as too smart. Mashiro hadn't known how accurate Shujin had been with his insights until now.

When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, Mashiro took one look at Shujin's message before texting back.

_Meet you in 10 min._

His chair scraped across the floor as he stood up hastily.

"I'll be back for dinner!" announced Mashiro as he grabbed his cloak. His voice dropped when he tried to say "Miho," but all he could manage was a quiet whisper before his face turned completely red.

* * *

When he opened the door to his uncle's studio, he saw Shujin in the corner with his legs propped up and a pencil tucked behind his ear. The other man looked up from the noise, both eyebrows raised at Mashiro as if Mashiro were the intruder when Shujin fit the description much better...if they were assigning any. He still came and went as he pleased, claiming that working in Kawaguchi Taro's studio always helped his creativity because the atmosphere was just right. They would work hours in the studio in compatible silence even when they weren't working on the same series together.

Sometimes, Mashiro drew and it wasn't for Shujin.

Sometimes, Takagi wrote and Mashiro wasn't the one who brought life to his words.

"You really came," Shujin said incredulously. "You know you didn't have to. I could have emailed you the name."

Mashiro could have said many things in response, like how he knew Shujin worked with the other artists mostly through email, or how they hadn't worked on a series together in what felt like forever, but he merely put his bag down and moved to take off his cloak.

"That's not the same and you know it," Mashiro said.

Shujin shrugged, his pencil scratching across the page. He finished his last thought with a flourish and handed the pages to Mashiro. "Tell me what you think."

He accepted the papers, his hand brushing against Shujin's briefly. This was almost like old times when they had worked together exclusively as Ashirogi Muto. They had finally gotten their hit when Mashiro had decided to go back to his roots and find the manga-loving self he had buried when his uncle had died. Mashiro had sketchbooks filled with characters he had dreamed of when he was younger. Shujin similarly had pages and pages of stories he wished to write but had no one to show to until their partnership.

Chapter after chapter, they came in first, sometimes fifth, sometimes tenth. Their breaths hitched when they dropped lower than ten. They cheered when they were in the top five. When the first volume came out, they took silly pictures in the bookstore before marveling that they were being sold next to big names. Dreams of having an anime before eighteen wasn't hard to imagine when their success was right before their eyes, tangible in their hands.

But their series only ran for thirty chapters, not even a year, before it got canceled. Shujin had thrown his notebook across the room when Mr. Hattori called them with the disappointing news, loose papers flying about. His glasses hid his eyes, but his clenched fists betrayed his emotions. Shujin hadn't known how to end the series in two chapters. They hadn't even gotten to the climax.

Even before they had somewhat rashly started, Mashiro had known the odds. His uncle was enough proof that becoming a successful mangaka was hard. With two of them, supporting themselves with just manga was even more difficult.

Shujin's skill was undeniable though. Every page, even with the funny-looking stick figures, kept him turning. Shujin's drawings hadn't improved a single bit over the years, but his writing was more than phenomenal. When Niizuma's editor had approached Shujin for a collaboration, Shujin's writing combined with Niizuma's expressive drawings had stormed the world, but both of them agreed to end the series in ten chapters, much to everyone's distress. Mashiro didn't know why they had decided so, but if they hadn't, he'd surely have been left in the dust.

"So will you draw this?" asked Shujin as he watched Mashiro flip through the name.

Mashiro's eyes scanned the name hungrily. "Yes, of course."

_And then Ashirogi Muto will live once again._

He began sketching the characters and showing them to Shujin for his opinion. He watched Shujin rub his chin, nodding and occasionally squinting his eyes, tilting the page as if he would be able to imagine the characters better at a different angle.

Mashiro missed working with Shujin. What did it matter if either of them got an anime without the other? The success didn't feel the same.

When Mashiro's cell phone went off, he smiled at Azuki's cute message and typed a quick response. He'd gotten better at curbing his long-winded texts. Living in the same house and seeing each other everyday helped. Still, he felt more confident texting her than talking with her in person.

Shujin's teasing smile greeted Mashiro when he looked up.

Mashiro scowled.

"What? It's just Azuki," he exclaimed, hiding his cell phone.

"I can't believe you still call her Azuki even though you're married!" teased Shujin.

Mashiro felt his face reddening. Shujin knew exactly why, but he always had to bring it up. His attempt to call Azuki "Miho" this morning immediately surfaced in his mind. Calling her "Miho" was so intimate, so endearing. He wanted to save it for when they finally attained their dreams fully. Sure, Mashiro had gotten an anime, but that had only been a thirteen episode series. Sure, Azuki was a seiyuu now, but she was a seiyuu that was only fit for certain roles. People criticized her for being unable to expand her limits. As for Mashiro, he didn't count his dream as having come true until he had a full length series that could challenge the monster titles in the Jump world.

When their eighteenth birthday came, Mashiro realized that there was so much more to their dreams than getting an anime or becoming a seiyuu.

Their dreams continued even after that.

Getting an anime wasn't the end, and neither was getting married. Living with Azuki was almost like living with a stranger, but Mashiro loved it. It was like falling in love all over again.

"Let's take this name to Mr. Hattori," said Mashiro, his eyes bright.

He was twenty-four now, no longer a teenager who didn't know where dreams started or ended. Supposedly, he should be much more mature, but he really wasn't.

All he wanted was to continue gambling and dreaming with Shujin.


End file.
